Babysitter
by Derpy Phantom
Summary: Jazz thinks Danny needs to get a job, to learn to be more responsible, so she helps him set up an ad as a babysitter. And his first clients, happen to be the Turners.


"Danny, I think you should get a job."

"Why should I get a job, Jazz?" Danny sighed. "I'm busy enough, with school as Danny Fenton and ghost fighting as Danny Phantom."

"You know there haven't been that many ghosts lately, and it's the weekend, not to mention summer break is coming up." Jazz pointed out. "And you need to learn some responsibility."

"Alright, fine." Danny gave in. "What kind of job did you have in mind for me?"

"Babysitting," Jazz smiled.

"Babysitting? Really?" Danny sighed.

"Yep. Now let's make an ad for your new babysitting job…" She said, sitting down and opening her laptop. "Let's see… how about this?" She showed him the ad she'd designed.

"…okay, it looks good." Danny said.

"Alright then, let's publish it!" Jazz smiled, putting the ad up on the internet. "Now we just have to wait for someone to call you and ask you to watch their kid."

Danny leaned back. "Uh-huh." He said. "But I still don't see why you think I should babysit…"

—-

Timmy Turner sat in his bedroom, watching TV. He was bored, and there wasn't even much on TV right now. "I wish something exciting would happen," he mumbled.

As if on cue, his parents threw his door open. "Hey, Timmy!" His dad smiled. "Guess what?"

"We're all going on a family vacation?" Timmy smiled.

"No, your mother and I are going on vacation!" His dad said. "You're going to be staying here with a babysitter."

"Oh, no, not Vicky…" Timmy groaned.

"No, Vicky broke her leg in some strange accident," His mother said, sitting down at the computer and looking at babysitter want ads. "We're going to find you someone else."

Timmy smiled a little. Well, maybe there was hope. Maybe he'd get a fun babysitter.

"Oh, here!" Mrs. Turner smiled. "I like the sound of this one. Here, I'll read it to you. 'Hi, I'm Danny Fenton. I'm 15 years old, male, and I'm good with kids. I'll babysit anyone between the ages of 5 to 12. Make me an offer if you're interested in having me as your babysitter.' Doesn't he sound nice?"

"Yes," Mr. Turner agreed.

"Yeah, I guess." He said. "Better than Vicky," He added, under his breath.

Mrs. Turner grabbed her phone and dialed the number.

—

Danny's cell rang and he answered it. "Hello, this is Danny Fenton," He said. Jazz looked at him expectantly. "Yeah… calling about my babysitter ad? Yes, I'm available. All weekend? Sure. Yeah, that sounds good. I can work with that. Can you give me your address?"

Jazz handed him a pencil and paper and he wrote the address down. "Okay. Uh-huh. yes. I'll be over in about… 15 minutes or so. See you. Okay." And he hung up.

"So?" Jazz asked.

"I'm babysitting for Mr. and Mrs. Turner. They're taking a weekend vacation, and I'm gonna be watching their son, Timmy." Danny said.

"Your first babysitting job!" Jazz smiled. "I'm so proud. Okay, you should go get everything you'll need!"

Danny nodded and started packing a backpack. "I'm kind of nervous, actually," He said. "What if the kid hates me?"

"He won't hate you, Danny." Jazz said. "He's gonna think you're awesome."

Danny smiled, zipped up his backpack, and slung it over one shoulder. "Thanks, Jazz." He said. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck!" Jazz said as Danny walked out the door.

He flew there, to the neighboring city of Dimmsdale, then walked a bit. "Let's see… their house should be on this street. The address is…" He looked at the paper. "It should be on my right soon… oh, there. I think that's it."

He walked up and rang the doorbell. It was answered by a woman with light brown hair. Beside her was a man with dark hair, and he could see a boy with brown hair and buckteeth sitting on the couch inside. "Um, hi," He smiled, "I'm the babysitter, Danny Fenton. You're the Turners?"

"Yes, that's us!" Mrs. Turner beamed and moved aside to allow him in. "Come on in and meet Timmy."

Danny walked inside. He smiled at the bucktoothed kid. "Hi, are you Timmy?" He asked.

Timmy nodded. "Uh-huh."

"I'm your babysitter, Danny." He said. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh, see? I told you he sounded like a nice boy!" Mrs. Turner smiled. "Okay, Danny, let's go over the rules."

Danny nodded. "Sure."

"Okay. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you're hungry. I don't know if you can cook, but if not, there's some leftovers in the fridge you can warm up. Timmy's bedtime is 9 PM, but you can stay up as late as you want." Mrs. Turner said.

"Got it." Danny said. "Anything else?"

"Nope, that's it!" She smiled. "You two have fun, okay?"

"Yep!" Danny smiled. "You guys have fun on your vacation, too."

Then Timmy's parents left and the two of them were alone. Timmy was nervous. The older boy seemed nice, sure, but so did Vicky until his parents left. He watched Danny, waiting to see what he'd do.

"So, Timmy," Danny set down his bag and sat down beside the younger boy, "What do you wanna do?"

"Um… you mean I can do whatever I want?" Timmy asked. "You're not gonna… make me do anything?"

"Why would I?" Danny smiled. "I'm just the babysitter. I'm here to make sure you stay safe, that's it."

"…I already like you better than my last babysitter," Timmy smiled. "You're a lot better than Vicky."

"Why?" Danny asked. "Was Vicky mean?"

"More than mean." Timmy shuddered. "Evil. Have you ever heard the song 'Icky Vicky' by Chip Skylark?"

"Yeah," Danny nodded. "Of course I have, I know all his songs. He is my second cousin, after all."

"Cool!" Timmy grinned. "Well, that song was about Vicky, my babysitter."

"I always wondered," Danny shrugged. He reached into his bag. "I brought some games, some movies… and some mac 'n' cheese. I'm not a very good cook, but I can make macaroni and cheese, at least."

"What movies?" Timmy asked.

"Um… let's see, I have some superhero movies," He set them down, "And a few animated ones…"

Timmy grinned. "Awesome!" He said. "Do you have the Crimson Chin movie?"

"I rented it," Danny smiled, putting it in the DVD player. "I thought you might like it. I'm gonna make the macaroni, you can start it without me."

Timmy nodded. "No, I'll wait."

—-

Jazz's cell rang and she picked it up. "Hello? …Danny, hi. What's up?" She asked.

"I'm just making the mac 'n' cheese," Danny said. "Timmy's a great kid, you were right, I am pretty good at this. Oh, sorry, I wanted to know, could you text me the name of that movie you said he'd like? We're watching the Crimson Chin one tonight, but I wanted another one for tomorrow night."

"Sure," Jazz said.

"Thanks a bunch," Danny said. "Okay then, bye."

"Bye," Jazz hung up, then texted Danny the movie name he'd wanted. "I wonder why he sounded so happy?"

—-

A little while later, Danny came out of the kitchen and handed Timmy a bowl of macaroni, then started eating some from his bowl. "So, tomorrow I'm gonna rent the Crash Nebula movie for us," Danny smiled.

"Awesome!" Timmy grinned. "You're the best babysitter I've ever had!"

"Glad to hear it," Danny chuckled. "This is actually my first time babysitting, so I was kind of worried I'd suck at it."

"No, you're a good babysitter." Timmy smiled.

Danny ruffled Timmy's hair. "Well, maybe you could ask your parents to use me instead of Vicky whenever possible."

"I will." Timmy said.

Danny grinned, and then the movie started and the two of them went quiet, eating and watching the movie.

—-

When Timmy's parents arrived home, Danny and Timmy were earting pretzels, playing games, and laughing. "Did you have fun?" They asked.

"Yeah! Danny's great!" Timmy said. "Can he babysit me instead of Vicky?"

"If you like him that much, then whenever he's available, we'll use him instead." Mr. Turner said.

Danny and Timmy high-fived. Then Danny started packing up to go home. "And how about you two, did you have fun?"

"Yes, lots of fun!" Mrs. Turner said.

"Good," Danny said.

Mr. Turner handed him his pay. He accepted it with a smile, then turned to Timmy. "See you later,"

"See you later, Danny!" Timmy smiled and waved.

Danny smiled and walked off. Well, maybe being a babysitter wouldn't be such a bad job, after all.


End file.
